Pet Therapy
by little librarian
Summary: "We have to at least see if he has a home," Steve says. Natasha volunteers to put up flyers in a nearby town, and comes back three hours later with dog food and a collar. (Pre-Civil War)


So, I have new Avengers fic for the first time in three years, and I changed my username (no longer MARVELous life). It's been an eventful day. I sat on this fic for a while, and I'm still not happy with the ending, but I figured it was time to post. Enjoy!

* * *

There's nothing overtly special about the day. The sun is shining and the sky is blue and there's a slight breeze that keeps the summer heat from becoming unbearable. Some people might call it a perfect day. Wanda's idea of a perfect day, however, coincides with autumn, when she can go out and collect leaves as red her power, so she does not call today a perfect day. But it does happen to be the day that Wanda decides to spend her free time walking on the lawn immediately outside of the Avengers compound, which is how she meets the dog.

Just like the day, there is nothing about the dog that is obviously special. It has all the body parts that a dog should have, with white fur and a brown spot on its back that matches the brown of its face. But the dog had made its way through the surrounding forest and past the perimeter and all the way up to the manicured grass surrounding the compound, all without setting off any of the dozens of alarms, so Wanda decides that this dog is special.

She brings the dog into the training room without any fanfare, and Steve doesn't notice either of them until the dog lets loose a tiny bark that is so out of place in the building that he, Sam, and Natasha all stop their drills immediately.

"No," Steve says automatically.

"He is special," Wanda argues. Steve raises an eyebrow at her, and she continues, "He made it into the yard without setting off alarms. Not even Sam's tiny man managed that, and he was much smaller."

"Come on, does _everyone_ know about that?" Sam interjects. The dog chooses this moment to bark again, as if in response. Sam scowls. Natasha smirks.

Steve sighs. "We have to at least see if he has a home already. Someone could be missing him." There's no collar on the animal, so Steve thinks it might be a long shot, but he still wants to try. Wanda glances down at the dog snuggled in her arms, despite being almost too big to hold comfortably, and then nods her agreement.

Natasha volunteers to put some flyers up in the nearby town. It makes sense for her to go because she's the best at blending in, but there's a glint her eyes that makes Steve think she has an ulterior motive.

She comes back three hours later with dog food, a blue collar ("It matches your suit, Cap!"), and other various supplies, and Steve knows that they're keeping the dog.

"I want to name him Spot," Wanda announces.

The whole team is gathered in the lounge for one of Steve's patented Team Meetings. Wanda has the dog in her arms again, like she refuses to let anyone else near him until his place in the building is secured, which is kind of pointless because she and Natasha both want to keep the dog and no one is brave enough to go up against that duo. So what Steve had intended to be a discussion about keeping the dog has quickly become a discussion about what to name the dog.

"Spot?" Sam questions. "Isn't that a little cliche?"

Wanda glares at him. He looks to Rhodey for help, but the other man lifts his hands in the well-known "you're on your own" gesture.

"I think that Spot is a fitting name," Vision remarks from his place next to Wanda—he seems to be at her side a lot these days, Steve realizes. Vision pats the dog's head and becomes the first person besides Wanda to touch the animal, and the dog doesn't seem at all concerned to have a metallic red hand on its head. Wanda beams at him, and Vision blinks before smiling softly back at her.

And so the dog is named Spot.

"There's a dog in my room," Tony says as he walks into the kitchen.

"Very observant," Wanda says. She adds milk to her bowl of cereal, and then breezes past him on her way to the chairs on the other side of the counter.

"Hey, Tony, thanks for letting us know you'd be by today," Sam calls sarcastically from his seat at the table.

"I wouldn't do that even if I _didn't_ own this place—hey, Super Dad." Tony diverts his attention to Clint, who's rummaging through the fridge (he's staying at the compound for a few days, and he swears up and down that his visit has nothing to do with the fact that his in-laws are spending some time at the farmhouse).

"Hey, man."

"So, _why_ is there a dog in my room?"

"He sleeps there when he is not sleeping in my room," Wanda explains.

"I think that's something you're supposed to say about a boyfriend." Tony's joke earns him an orange to the head, courtesy of Hawkeye. Wanda rolls her eyes at Clint's fatherly attitude, but a small smile still finds its way to her lips.

"I am not a child, you know," she tells Clint.

"No, you're just weird."

A few months ago Tony's comment would have had her leaving the room in a huff. She's still wary of the man, but at least now she understands that calling her weird is his way of acknowledging that she's powerful.

So she smirks and uses her weirdness to send an apple flying into his gut.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, then asks his next question right as Natasha walks into the kitchen. "Why is there a dog here at all?"

"His name is Spot, he's our dog, and you're a monster if you don't love him," Nat tells him.

"See, Maximoff," Tony points at Natasha, " _that's_ the kind of answer I was looking for."

"Then maybe you should have asked that question first."

Tony glares at her, and Wanda smirks back.

"You're quite skilled at training him," Vision observes one day as he watches Spot sprint across the yard at the sound of Wanda's sharp whistle. Wanda is silent as she reaches down to pet the dog.

"There were many abandoned dogs in Sokovia," Wanda tells him. She straightens and fixes her eyes on the trees in the distance, resolutely not looking at Vision. "Pietro and I used to play with the tame ones. There was one dog—he followed us everywhere, so we trained him to help us find food." She settles cross-legged onto the grass to better pet Spot, but she keeps staring at the trees. Vision isn't sure how to respond, so he stays silent.

"I woke one morning and he was gone. We never found out what happened to him."

"Wanda. . .," Vision trails off, imploring her with his voice to look at him, because he can always tell her emotion by her eyes. It doesn't work.

Vision lowers himself to sit next her, mimicking her position on the grass. "I'm sorry," he says, and at last she turns her head and meets his eyes, and he sees the pain that the memory brings her. He wonders if he should reach out and grasp her shoulder, comfort her in the way Steve does, except Wanda moves first and suddenly her head is resting on his shoulder.

Spot crawls into Wanda's lap, and Vision thinks that maybe the dog can sense her sadness. He rests his hand on her knee, contents himself with watching her hand move across Spot's fur, and they stay that way until dinner.


End file.
